Before the sun appeared the earth was still, and silence lay like a blessing upon the land.  No blade stirred in the coolness, nor any bird in the sky, only somewhere not too far off, a meadow lark spoke inquiringly into the morning.

One arresting finger of smoke lifted thinly to the sky, and where the horizon drew its line across the heavens, a cloud seemed to lie upon the grass, off where the world curved away from them.

"Put everything away," Vallian advised, "put your goods out of sight.  You've got a-plenty of flour and sugar, so plan to spare them some."

"We've scarcely enough to make it through," Susanna protested.

"Take out a third," Vallian said, "but don't let it show.  An' remember this: don't look scared.  Injuns got no respect for a frightened man.  You got to make them stand first, then give them something.  If they figure you're scared they'll just take it all an' your scalps, too."

"I don't see anybody," Tom protested.  "Ain't nobody in sight for miles."

"Shut up, boy, an listen."  After a moment he said, "Trouble with city folks.  Always talkin'.  You never learn anything when you're talkin', boy, only when you're listenin'."
The clouds flushed pink, and a streak of bright crimson slashed the sky, reflecting on the grass and giving it a rosy sheen.

"Shouldn't we be moving?"  McKaskel asked, irritably.  "Why wait like this?  How do you know there is anyone out there?"

"I know.  They're watchin' us."  Vallian paused.  "You got a Bible?"

"A Bible.  Of course."

"Get it out, stand there in front of us an' read.  Read, an' take in the sky an' all.  The Injuns," he added, "may not buy it, but they like a good show."

Duncan McKaskel went to the wagon and got his Bible.  He straightened his coat, stretched his neck out of his collar.  He walked out and faced them.  "I think this is nonsense," he said, self-consciously.  "And I am no minister of the gospel."

"Right this minute," Con Vallian removed his hat, "you surely are.  You're a gospel-shoutin', fire an' brimstone preacher.  Now when they come, don't none of you turn a hair.  Pay them no mind."

McKaskel opened the Bible and turned the pages.  Suddenly from behind him there were shrill, piping yells.  Involuntarily, he started to turn.

"Read!"  Vallian spoke sharply.  "Read, if you want to live!"

Behind him there were pounding hoofs, and the wild, shrill yells.  He read, "For the waters of Nimrum shall be desolate: For the hay is withered away, the grass faileth, there is no green thing."